In Love With All Your Sins
by therealmegryan
Summary: Christine Chapel isn't an easy person by any means, and Jim Kirk isn't an easy person to love, but the connection between them is deeper than either of them can grasp. Chapel/Kirk. Rating for possible future chapters.
1. Places You Have Come to Fear the Most

In Love With All Your Sins

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, unfortunately. **

Chapter One: The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most

Christine Chapel propped her long legs up on the bio bed adjacent to her and cracked her knees loudly while she stretched the rest of her body. The USS Salvation was a nice place to occupy for the time being, and her CMO was a push over, so it was pretty much her Sick Bay to run. Christine's intellect and command of her surroundings allowed her to make a prominent name and reputation for herself. Head Nurse sounded just fine to her for now. With a yawn, she looked back down at the inventory list lying on her lap and grimaced. Her Sick Bay was pristine, clean, and quiet, and unnaturally troubling.

Fate never fails to miss a cue, and took this opportunity to sound an overwhelming, foreboding crash and rip Christine's chair directly out from under her. Out of instinct, Christine threw her hand out to brace her fall and heard a loud crack from her joint and yelled out in pain into the empty room. She scrambled up, cradling her wrist against her chest and sprinted out of Sick Bay to try to see what was going on. Red emergency lights flashed around her and Captain Alexandurr's voice cut in and out with static as she fought through the stream of the crew to get to the Bridge. Another blast slammed her against the wall forcefully, knocking her head with a dull clunk. She clawed her way back up, through the sprinting bodies around her and felt warm wetness dripping around her cheek from her temple.

When she finally reached the bridge, the sight before her was straight out of nightmares. Bodies lined the entire floor, and she called out for anyone, anyone still alive over the explosions and screams outside. She dropped to the floor and started crawling through the carnage to check for the living, to sort through the victims. So many faces she came to care for were bloody and torn beneath her and she thanked the heavens for her apparent lack of gag reflex.

Just as another targeted weapon was announced by the computer, strong arms pulled her from her spot on the floor and she gasped and struggled until her captor barked Star Fleet nonsense into her ear and told her relax. Christine clawed around at the perpetrator's arms and chest until she was spun around face to face, confirmed the officer's identity and when she took in the pale yellow uniform, the emblem on his chest and the worried look on his human-like face, she began to breathe heavily and wildly as she struggled to yell that she had to get her people off the ship. She began to struggle for new reasons, mainly that she clearly had her own legs and she was clearly capable of navigating on her own. This guy obviously didn't understand the intensity of the situation, and that it was clearly her responsibility to help the rest of her crew to safety. Her throat scratched as she yelled and fought against him and threw her body away from him in an attempt to break away. Her head pounded from her temple and things just kept getting darker.

The officer forcefully pressed her to his chest, and tried to calm her thrashing until she slowed and went limp with what he could only assume was exhaustion. He gathered her completely in his arms and quickly called to the Enterprise to be beamed back up. When Kirk materialized on the transport pads with Nurse Chapel hanging from his arms, he pushed past the officers surrounding him and continued straight to Sick Bay to assess the poor woman in his arms.

"Bones! I've got a live one!" Kirk scrambled, almost tripping over other patients in the bustling Sick Bay and hurried to an open, clean bed. He carefully spilled the woman onto it and waved frantically to Bones as she moaned and started to try to lift herself. Bones steadied her motions gently.

"Woah, Darlin' lets get you scanned and checked before you jump out of bed." Somehow, she managed to glare.

"Its Nurse Chapel, thank you," she croaked out and then proceeded to cough, and subsequently choked up blood before shuddering into a limp state of unconsciousness. McCoy flew around the bed to begin scanning, and hypospray-ing, and muttering to himself about heroics and "_damnstupidstubbornegomaniacs_".

Jim Kirk took a step back, nervously wringing his hands, knowing he had seven thousand things to do, but he was unwillingly glued to the spot with anxiety. Bones quickly put a brace to her wrist, and walked around the rest of her body to scan for damage. He looked up at Kirk with a questioning look, and Jim just mouthed nothingness, for once without words.

"The blood she coughed up was just from her throat being so sore, no damages in her body except for a pretty intense concussion. She should be fine in a day or two. Jim, what is your fascination-" The Doctor was called to attention elsewhere for a quick minute, and Jim took the opportunity to straighten and pull down her uniform, arrange her hair and to try to clean her face a bit. He was really sure when he was possessed by this overwhelming chivalry, but he had never been overcome with the need to be so protective over someone before. Christine's eyes fluttered open when he tried to tuck some hair away from her face, and she tried a smile, but seemed to fail with the pounding in her head. The hauntingly familiar face of the officer, apparently commanding officer according to his now bloodstained golden uniform, smiled softly down to her, and brushed a thumb against her face. Bones roughly pushed his Captain away from the bed as Christine faded into black again, and recommenced his examination. Kirk furrowed his brow in worry as he stepped back, still watching Christine's damaged figure.

'_Captain Kirk to the Bridge'_

Bones looked over his shoulder at the retreating Captain, then back down at Christine Chapel in front of him. He shook his head and moved onto the next patient. There was no question in his mind already that this woman could be the end of Jim Kirk. Not one question at all.


	2. The Pros and Cons of Breathing

In Love With All Your Sins

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, unfortunately.**

Chapter Two: The Pros and Cons of Breathing

Christine Chapel was a light sleeper. Always has been, always will be. That's why when a near by medical apparatus tumbled over, she bolted upright and scrambled to get out of bed. Two strong hands caught her on her arms and stifled her movements. She sharply turned to her apprehend the culprit, but was faced with the same blue eyes that she met yesterday, only filled with curiosity more so than worry. She stiffened considerably and turned to the man in question, this time donning Star Fleet regulation black undershirt and opened her mouth to question him, but he quickly interrupted her.

"Good morning, Nurse Chapel, before we begin delve into any serious matters, I figured you may want shower, maybe change into new clothes and eat something so you feel a bit better than you may right now." Christine smiled lightly, albeit feeling a little patronized, and stared intently at the man in front of her, frustratingly unable to pin his face down, despite the fact that he looked incredibly familiar. "There's a Visitor's Quarters that's being prepared for your remaining crew, and one of them has your name on it," Jim's attempt at lightheartedness was lost on Christine, his smile faltered for a millisecond before he schooled it back onto his face, "I can get you down there if you think you're up to leaving Sick Bay." Christine nodded slowly, as the pounding in her head had yet to subside. Kirk slowly aided her descent from bed, gingerly handling her wrist and other bruised parts of her. While a bruise still graced the side of her face and lower on her neck, Jim was able to observe her soft features as she walked along side him. She seemed to be holding herself, and shivering just a bit. Kirk suddenly felt very uneasy about himself and strangely enough his ship, which clearly was unable to house those with slightly lower body temperatures. "I'm sorry if it's too cold on the ship." He blurted out suddenly. Chapel turned her head sharply towards him, jumping at the larger man's soft confession of self-consciousness. She stared at him bewilderedly, and just shook her head.

"Actually, I'm fine, I just am cold most of the time, but um…thank you for the sentiment, Captain?" She smiled hesitantly at him and looked away. _'What was he even saying?'_

Kirk wanted to punch his own face in. _'Good one, guy.'_

They finally reached her new Quarters and they stopped in front of it, as Kirk set the code for her and they stepped tentatively inside.

"How does around one hour sound for you? I can come back here around 1100 hours and we can discuss what happened and perhaps contact Starfleet to see what's going to go down?" Jim's hands clasped behind his back, and he was trying to ignore the sweaty sensation that coated them, as he watched her trouble her bottom lip with her teeth. She nodded and floated towards the bed, but he hovered near the door, fighting the urge to join her anywhere near, on, or around the bed. He wanted to hold her and comfort her and make her hard eyes relax and tell her that everything can and will be okay. Instead, Jim fidgeted with his hands and slowly counted from ten backwards in his head, a control technique he picked up from Spock which helped in diplomatic situations- as well as in bed. _'JIM.' _His internal discipline sounded extremely similar to Bones' voice. Weird.

"Thank you so much, Captain, this has all been so kind. Can I just ask one tiny question? Uh-" She rubbed up and down her own arm, Christine hated being unsure of herself, she hated that more than most things. "Where am I? And, no disrespect, sir, but who are you?" Jim blinked a couple of times before registering that, no; she didn't know who he was at all. That was new for him. He smiled widely, realizing that she was still waiting and he was quickly ruining his first impressions. He strode forward and extended his hand.

"I'm Captain Jim Kirk, and Welcome to the Enterprise," Kirk took her delicate hand in his and smiled lightly as he saw recognition flash behind her eyes, and then saw a cool professional natural school her face. She wasn't fawning. This was still new for him.

"Christine Chapel, Head Nurse of the-," she stopped short. _'Oh wow.' _There was a quick dull pain in her chest as she realized that she wasn't the Head Nurse of much of anything anymore. Kirk's smiled faltered and he stilled as she sucked in a quick breath and her eyes glossed over.

"Nurse Chapel-" Kirk stepped closer in order to brace the young woman's arms when he saw the trembling in her knees. She slowly brought her eyes from his chest to his eyes and her slightly darker blue ones pleaded with him to tell her anything but the truth and it broke his heart to feel that much pain channeled towards him. The actual physical pain this was causing was almost too much to bear, and while Kirk was anything but emotionally functional, he seemed to be more than willing to overextend himself for this chick. "Christine, I am deeply, incredibly sorry for your loss, and realize the amount of pain that you must be suffering from right now, and that I can do nothing to help. The only thing I can offer is maybe a shower and change of clothes to help a small amount?" Kirk shifted uncomfortably, and cleared his throat unwillingly, "However I can stay here as long as you need me too." Kirk smiled kindly, impressed by his own demeanor and mentally stored that he should high-five someone later over it. Christine offered a small smile, marginally less glossy and shaky.

"Thank you Captain, you've been too kind already. I should be ready for whatever you and Starfleet have in mind in around an hour. Thank you so much again." Christine pulled back, slowly and regrettably and retreated backwards towards the bed. Kirk nodded and turned to leave, and threw a look over his shoulder at the small figure, but caught a glimpse of her long legs as she stretched them out.

_'Jesus H. Christ'_ Inappropriate didn't even begin to cover it.

**A/N: Hey! Thank you guys so much for reading thus far, and so much for the reviews! This is my first story on here and I hope you're enjoying it. If you guys think there's anything totally outlandish that I write, just let me know and I'll quickly fix it. Thanks so much again!**


	3. The World From the Bottom of a Well

In Love With All Your Sins

**Disclaimer: I still don't own any of these characters, unfortunately.**

**Author's Note: Hey guys, I'm so sorry its taken me forever to get this one out, it was a really hard chapter for me and school has been such a bitch lately, but thank you so much for your reviews and story alerts, they're lovely and so are you! :] Hopefully I'll be able to get another up within a week, I've already got it started.**

Chapter Three: _Looking at the World from the Bottom of a Well_

Christine began peeling her bloody, sweat-stained clothing off in the wake of Captain Kirk's departure and stared at her revealed skin as she brushed past the bruises on her shoulder and neck. Her muscles were beginning to ache already and when she finally was down to her bare skin, she slipped into the shower and began a scalding hot stream of water for her to step into. The water stung her skin, but at this point she was willing to accept any pain or feeling, as long as it was real. She watched the brown stained water roll off of her to the drain, and knew that she might be overreacting but couldn't help picture the faces of those people who's blood she was washing off. Like a picture album in her mind, she remembered each intimate memory with her crew, and her throat grew tighter with each face as the overwhelming anxiety began to close in around her. She fought to collect a sob, a gasping breath, anything to help calm her self from the level of instability. She knew she needed this to stop, and she felt her knees shaking underneath her. She was a survivor, damn it, and a strong woman and this just wasn't acceptable. This was one more thing that she knew she could get through and she just needed to find an outlet, something new to occupy her mind with, especially at this moment. She would never belittle the deaths of her crew, and it would certainly take more than a few hours of heavy breathing to forgive herself for not being able to help her people, but this was now, and this was a shower and she was going to fall and crack her damn head open if she didn't get a grip.

Grabbing onto the first non-bloody image in her head, she found James Kirk, pushing his way to the forefront of her mind. Of course, she scowled at this, recognizing his reputation, knowing of and even working with some of his adoring fans, but it never caught with her. She was impressed with his dealing of the Narada situation, that was without saying, and she admired his will power and strength, but even at the Academy he left behind a trail of girls who fawned over him from afar without a doubt of his character in their minds. His promotion to Captain just made the pitter-patter of their tiny hearts sound even faster and to plainly put it, she was sick of the worship. When Christine tried to reason with her peers or coworkers she would be hushed as bitter, or just celibate. Thus, Christine Chapel and the concept of Jim Kirk were left at a crossroads. However, many of his actions as of late were inexplicably sweet, and he seemed to be caring without any rhyme or reason and it was endlessly confusing, seemingly even to him. Christine ran her hands through her wet hair and began to scrub it with shampoo when she noticed that her breathing had noticeably relaxed, thanks to the Captain. She smiled, despite her own musings and knew she owed one more favor to him. _'This may be a problem, Christine,'_ her inner voice chided, as she stepped slowly from the shower to the colder atmosphere. She rolled her own eyes at herself, and knew well enough to be careful. There hadn't been many since Roger, and even in those few, Christine has always made sure to have the upper hand. She made a vow to herself three years ago that she would never give another Roger a chance, and the Captain spelled out bad news quite clearly. She simply shook the thoughts from her head, because they shouldn't even be there anyway, and there was no reason for them. Carefully pulling on the female science uniforms, she stared at her pale face in the mirror. Somehow, the bruises seemed harsher under her clean hair and face and she winced as her fingers brushed against the slightly raised areas. Sighing, she turned away from her own accusative blue eyes and returned to the bathroom to dry her hair among other things. There was nothing more that she would dread than this call that she knew was coming.

* * *

When Jim re-entered the room, Christine was sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the bracelet on her wrist. She looked up at him with an eyebrow raised and Kirk had to fight his sudden intake of breath, because holy crap that was attractive on her. This, of course, turned into a cough, which in turn caused her to cock her head at him slightly. Her curling strawberry blonde hair fell in front of her shoulders and her skin looked so damn touchable that it pained him. She rose from her spot on her bed and stepped an inch forward tentatively. And once again, Jim's hands were immediately clasped behind his back, nervously. Her eyes, which were a shade bluer than his, regarded him questioningly, noticing the tension throughout his body. Was he really nervous because of her? Really? She was sure her ego was playing tricks on her again; he was the 'Playboy of the Universe'. Literally the entire universe. Feeling that these short moments were turning into years, she shifted her stance and cleared her throat, to which he twitched slightly and brought a fake official smile to his face.

"Well, its nice to see how efficiently you've gotten ready," Christine's eyebrows shot up at him, and Jim wished that space would open up and swallow him. _'WHY.' _"We're going to have a video communication with the officials at Star Fleet and figure out what exactly we're going to do with you. Since you're the only lucid survivor of the attack, you'll have to be the only one at the meeting for now." Christine slowly nodded and crossed her arms over her chest.

"How many survivors were there?" Jim hesitated under the intensity of her eyes, unsure of how truthful he should be. He could protect her and declare himself unknowing, or that some Star Fleet regulation prevents him from disclosing such information, or he could tell her the truth. The truth was that there were only twenty-seven survivors. The truth was that of those survivors, that ten of them sustained major life changing injuries. The truth made _Jim_ sick, and it wasn't even his crew. It was a tragedy, and the attack was unavoidable and unpredictable and half the ship had been blown away, and frankly, they were lucky to have saved that many. Her eyes begged him for the truth, and she knew what was coming, but some how the soft tremble of her lip when he opened his mouth was enough to make him second guess himself.

"Nurse Chapel, I-," She straightened and dropped her arms, her heart already feeling the gapping hole of grief. She knew the inevitable, but she wanted the truth, she knew she would handle it, just as she had anything else. "Are you sure you want these numbers right now?" She relaxed the tension in her shoulders slightly, and smiled softly at him and his kindness, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. This was regardless of the fact that the small voice inside her head screamed at his patronization.

"Captain, realistically I'm going to find out soon enough, and I'd rather not have to take in that information while being scrutinized by the higher-ups of Star Fleet. I doubt they would give me enough time-"

"Twenty-seven," Jim blurted out and Christine's sentence died in her throat. "I'm sorry I just thought it'd be better like that." Christine nodded and met his eyes incredulously. She seemed to want to say something but her mouth just moved without sound. All those lives, lost. Gone, forever. And wow, it was incredibly numb in her cavity chest. Jim reached forward for her and he put his palms on her shoulders, it was nice to feel the warmth and she hummed softly towards the touched. He shook her ever so slightly and bent his knees to get to her eye level. "Hey, Christine, you're going to get through this. You seem like a strong enough woman, with an amazing intellect, or that's what your record holds. And Star Fleet's pretty good about that. You have the entire Enterprise crew, as well as me to help you," Jim added the last part quickly, smiling kindly at his shorter companion, and she melted a little into his eyes. Deep down, she hated herself for this unwilling attraction in her dire situation, for being a puddle in his hands, and she was sure he knew this. This was everything that Christine built herself up against, and she hated how quickly she crumbled into his strong, willing arms and damned blue eyes. His gorgeous blue eyes. Okay, so maybe she just strongly disliked herself. But in any case, she hated being the damsel in distress, regardless of what she was going through. She shook away the numbness, or perhaps just stuffed it somewhere dark and deep, where she would only find it in the hours of the night when she couldn't sleep. She smiled softly back at him and straightened her back a little more.

"Thank you so much Captain, that's really, very kind of you." Jim dropped his hands and blushed a little, taking a step back.

"Oh, it's no problem, Nurse Chapel, maybe we should head down to the communications room? I'm pretty sure they're waiting on us." Christine nodded and followed Kirk as he left the room, the bottom pit of her stomach telling her that this was not to be a positive experience one bit.


	4. Burn Your Life Down

In Love With All Your Sins

**Disclaimer: I still don't own any of these characters, unfortunately.**

**Author's Note: Hey, I am so sorry for this ridiculous wait! Midterms week and family emergencies (:[) and an arid, stressful dry spell of creativity. But I'm back on the wagon and hopefully writing faster! I really appreciate everyone who reads and reviews and you guys are all great. I promise I am already more than halfway through the next chapter  
**

**PS This chapter is pure fluff in the beginning, so I'm sorry if they might be a little OOC but I promise they're going to polarize to normal soon enough. Except maybe Kirk, because I enjoy writing him as uncomfortably slipping into submission.**

Chapter Four: _Burn Your Life Down_

Christine Chapel walked into the conference room a step ahead of Jim and was confronted by the Senior Officers of the U.S.S Enterprise. Jim had been kind enough to deal with her slow, dragging pace coming down here, but him not warning her that she would be pushed into a room of waiting officers made her want to punch his damn face in. She took a step backwards into his chest and ignored the warm feeling his hand on her shoulder induced throughout her body.

Jim gently led her into the room of his co-workers and saw the thinly veiled disdain she was directing towards him. He held back a grin as his hand slid to her back while he increased his pressure slightly to move her feet forward.

"Gentlemen, Uhura, Nurse Christine Chapel, our first awakened survivor, and the reason for this godforsaken call." Christine waved weakly, and smiled around the room slightly, when Jim saw Bones twitch in his chair. He'd seen that twitch before, but only when Joanna visited an outpost they were at and a little boy started to, what he called, "hit on her". Jim tried to make eye contact with him, but his eyes didn't once leave Chapel, lingering ever so slightly on her bandaged wrist.

Scotty got up to pull out a chair for her and she thanked him with a blushing smile and sat quickly. Jim took a seat a few chairs down from her, in between Spock and Bones, who were both otherwise occupied in directions that weren't him. Spock was staring intently at some small font in a foreign language on a PADD and it was decidedly the most boring thing that Kirk had ever experienced. Bones was still focusing down the row, and all Jim Kirk could do was sigh like a little, annoying, love-struck, pining boy and stare forward. Jim Kirk didn't _sigh_, it was just not something that occurred, however, it just happened, and Kirk decided to move past it and accept his fate like the little bitch he was becoming. Trying, and failing, to catch snippets of the conversation between Chapel and Chekov was fruitless so he began to drum his fingers on the table in front of him, and think to himself, of course about her, and how cute, and funny she was and how good her legs looked all the time, and how extremely _whipped_ he sounded already. He sighed dramatically and heavily again and slumped in his chair, pouting.

"Captain, are you experiencing difficulties with your respiratory system?"

Kirk whipped his head to Spock's raised eyebrow and a bemused smile from Uhura.

"Uh- what?"

"Captain, you've sighed heavily twice, and your heaving breathe is both distracting and concerning, is there something blocking your lungs?" Uhura was fighting laughter and Spock's face, although appearing unchanged to an amateur, seemed to take on a kind of gleam of malevolence.

"I think he had a new conquest, Commander Spock."

"You do say, Lieutenant Uhura?"

There were reasons why Kirk hated Spock and Uhura as a couple, and he always remembered them at the least opportune times.

Jim glared at the two of them, want to deny that treatment of such a woman, but his masculinity had already taken too much today and to be emasculated by Spock and his _girlfriend_ might make him vomit. In a manly manner of course. Or maybe he would go punch something. "She's…a nice piece right?" It didn't even convince him. Spock and Uhura's respective eyebrows shot up in such a manner that Jim began to worry that they did in fact practiced this in unison. Because he _knew_ Spock wasn't getting any. At least his masculinity told him so.

"Shut up, both of you," Jim hissed out quickly. "Aren't we supposed to be calling Star Fleet?" Uhura rolled her eyes and turned to a panel on the wall to send out the transmission. Jim stared forward again, ignoring the blank stare of his Vulcan counterpart. Son of a bitch knew everything.

When they finally were faced with the Admirals, their blank faces sent a cold ice through his veins, and he quickly snuck a look down at Christine, who was staring intently at the table. Bones's attention had been turned to the screen, and he was glaring, unabashedly.

"Greetings Enterprise, I hope all is well." Jim nodded in response.

"Thank you, Sir. We're running pretty well, no sustained damage from the encounter and no injuries in our own crew."

"Very good, Captain. Christine Chapel, how're you holding up?"

"Nurse Chapel, sir. And I'm fine, more than anything I'm concerned about my crew and the remains of my ship."

"Understandable, Nurse," the Admiral spoke with a sharp bitterness on his tongue. Clearly, being corrected was not something this man enjoyed. "The remains of the ship are currently being pulled down to earth, and we plan to excavate the entirety of it, and to try to pull out every possible thing. Dr. McCoy would probably know better than I the statuses of the remainders of your crew." Christine nodded and her brow furrowed. The man was too calm for her liking, like this was a simple, everyday procedure that was just nothing to anyone. There was a slow anger that was filling through her veins and she felt like she was falling under water as the seconds passed.

"Sir, what actions are we to take as to finding out the perpetrators?" Kirk became all business incredibly quickly when he saw Chapel's hesitance, knowing he needed to take over. He owed her as much, and knew that finding the bastards that did this to her crew was exactly what she needed to do.

As soon as he uttered those words, a tangible silence and tension spread through out the two rooms, and was particularly strong in the space between them. The Admirals all traded furtive looks, and Admiral Pike wouldn't look anywhere near the screen. His face was red with some emotion, and Jim knew this was miles from good.

"Because the evidence is so scarce and yet unknown, and because we really don't know what the cause or motives are…we have come to the decision that there will be no immediate course of action to address the situation."

And then the room exploded.

Christine sat rigidly in her dumb ass leather bound chair as she re-heard those words over and over again. 'No immediate course of action'. Kirk, McCoy, and even Commander Spock had all jumped into action when it was uttered, Kirk spewing the most violent nonsense of all of them. There had been hundreds of lives lost, and they weren't taking any action? Seriously? Christine's wide eyes rose to the screen of the frazzled, attempting-to-appease Admirals trying to reason with the yelling officers.

"We have no concrete evidence that this was a Klingon attack, or what their intentions were. No one on their Bridge could tell us-"

"Because they're all dead," Christine practically yelled. All eyes shot to her, some filled with incredulity and other with pity, but most wide with astonishment. She felt like she had just burst out from under the cold water pond that had been seeping into her senses. "They're dead, and you're ready to accept your losses and move on and reassign what's left to some flagships, so we fade away just like you hope this tragedy will. A memorial service isn't going to satisfy everyone. There are twenty-seven people that lost family. _ WE_ expect some level of respect and retribution; we all expect you to rip this attack apart," Christine found she was suddenly standing somehow, and her voice was much stronger than her heart felt. She felt Jim Kirk's hot gaze on her neck, vomit rising, and the promising career she had built for herself physically slipping through her fingers. But this was much more than her, so she was okay with it, regardless of the fact that the logic deep inside her brain was screaming inside her head to _shut the fuck up and sit the fuck down_. She straightened a little fuller and met the Admirals' eyes with a fierce glare. The Board collectively and surprisingly gulped, ready to run away with their tails between their legs.

There was a quick shared glance between all of them, and one brave soul spoke first, "Well," He coughed and shuffled some papers in front of him. "I think the Science and Engineering can spend more time closely examining the situation when the remains of the ship arrive at Star Fleet, and we will continue to look at the activity in space surrounding the incident." Christine nodded approvingly, and shakily sat back down, suddenly exhausted and looked to Kirk, who looked as though he might cry.

"On a lighter note," Everyone sitting at the conference table looked wildly to the screen, not sure what idiot was attempting to turn what may have been the most terrifying conversation ever shared in one room into a small talk situation. "It has been noted that Doctor McCoy has requested a new Head Nurse. Now Nurse Chapel, we would be more than happy to extend the position to you, but we understand if you would like to take time off, out of space, but-,"

"Chris, please don't feel any shade of obligated, I'm perfectly fine without the help-," Bones quickly interjected.

"Dr. McCoy, before you continue your pleading, I'm more than capable and willing to serve as your Head Nurse, thank you very much," Christine reluctantly choked slightly on 'Head Nurse' as it felt strange that just under a week ago, she used to run another ship on another side of the galaxy. But Christine couldn't stop working, she knew the hole in her heart where her former crew members and old friends used to reside would completely encompass her and there was no way that she would ever survive that. Space was her home, and the Enterprise could serve her in this respect. Bones bristled at her professional interruption, indignant with her tone. She smiled cheekily at him and he visibly fought a grin.

"If that is what you wish, Nurse Chapel, you are hereby granted the position officially after a week's rest." Christine nodded mutely, knowing that she wouldn't fight the Admirals on this one, accepting that she very thinly got away with what she had said to them earlier. It was going to be a long ass week.

"Captain Kirk, when the rest of the patients come to consciousness, we will continue this debriefing, thank you for your time, and good luck Christine," The screen went dramatically black and Christine rolled her eyes. Always theatrics with this crowd.


End file.
